CHAPTER XXVIII.—JUSTICE FOR THE WORKERS
THE next morning at ten o’clock, Major Buell
Hampton walked down to the smelter office. He was met at the door of the directors’ room by the general manager, Mr. W. B. Grady. Despite a bold front Grady looked careworn and anxious.
“Hold on there,” he said as the Major started to enter. “What do you want?” He spoke roughly. “This is a meeting of some gentlemen who are interested in the Smelter.”
“Very well,” said the Major. “I came down to attend the stockholders’ meeting.”
“Well, you can’t go in,” said Grady. “Stockholders’ meetings of this company are private. We do not furnish entertainment and gossip for onlookers like a justice of the peace court.”
“That may all be true—I hope it is true, Mr. Grady,” said the Major, and he looked him in the eyes with more of pity than of anger depicted on his face. The crafty manager cringed before the critical inspection.
“I am here strictly on business,” continued Buell Hampton. “I am a stockholder.”
“You a stockholder in our Smelter Company?”
“I have that honor,” replied the Major, tersely. “Or at least I hold powers of attorney from the largest group of stockholders in your company.”